He'd moved, but hadhad nothing to do with it. He'd simply been carried along for the ride.It was like he was a puppet whose strings had been pulled. I... was adiscombobulating experience. 'What am I going to do?' he thought, whilevigorously trying to suppress the mounting frenzy that'd taken hold ofhim.Two hours later..."So how was the funeral, Michael?"Lyuba looked at the pretty girl sitting across from her at the table inthe store's caf?, and answered, "It was depressing, Janice. The poorwoman. She had found my wardrobe andmy pictures. There were pictures of me, as Emma, in dresses in citiesall over Europe. I would always plan my work so that I could finish inthe mid-afternoon, so I could get back to the hotel to soak in the tub,shave my legs, arms, and chest and then slip into a dress for dinner inthe evening followed by a nightcap back in the room in a long satinrobe over a lace gown.I have been doing this for the past three years on business trips. Ihave developed quite a hand for. More

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